It was a nice Monday afternoon and Lyril was spending it watching Amir building a tower of cups. Every other two, he would let out a long suffering sigh, rest his head on the table, whine for a moment, and then continue. It was rather impressive, Lyril had to admit. It was even more impressive that Radames had let him have all those cups to begin with. Diego was sitting and reading next to him, seemingly unbothered. Radames, on the other hand, kept directing worried glances in their direction. Eventually, he strode over to them.

“Uh, love?” He removed one cup from the middle to peer at Amir through the gap.

“Mhm?”

“We’re not in a rush so I don’t mind you taking all these but… what are you doing?”

“Modern art.”

“Really?”

“No,” Diego said cheerily. “He’s skipping class because he wants to study for an exam. Not on modern art.”

“Um.” Radames tried not to say it, but Diego did anyway:

“He’s not studied for an hour. I’m here for moral support.”

Amir whined again. “It’s too hard, I don’t want to study.”

“What’s it on, love? Maybe I can help!”

“I doubt it.” Amir fished his phone out and read out tragically: “The Celts: Day-to-day Items.”

“Oh.” Radames raised his eyes. “That sounds like fun!”

“It’s fun to learn about, not memorize.” Amir’s face was back on the table. 

“Hmmm, do you have flashcards?”

“I started making them yesterday, but didn’t get far…”

Radames beamed. “Well, me and Diego will help you!”

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder. “No, Diego and the books will help him. You’re coming with me.”

Radames handled this with his usual grace and composure, which was of course a weak “Noooo” and “I have fallen… go on without me!” as Lyril dragged him away.

Lyril very quickly regretted taking Radames from his partners, as the minute they were alone with nothing but a cake and frosting between them, Radames immediately said:

“I have a new idea on how you can go out with Raphael.”

“Radames, if you're trying to annoy me into letting you go back over and shirk work–”

“Just ask him out! You saw what happened with Morrigan, you need to hurry or–”

“Or what?” He squeezed the piping bag a little too hard, and a slightly bigger blob came out. Radames sighed and carefully scraped it away with a knife.

“Will you just admit that you have a crush?”

“I will not.”

"Aha! You said no to admitting it, not no that you didn't care, so therefore- oh, I heard Raphael’s voice from the cafe!”

Lyril looked up and turned to the door leading to the cafe so quickly he almost banged his head into the nearest machine.

What he saw, unfortunately instead of Raphael, was Radames smirking at him.

"Can't argue with my logic, Ly."

“You and logic? When did that happen.” But the protest was weak, and Lyril knew it.

By the time they were done, Amir hadn’t seemed to have made a great deal of progress in studying, but he and Diego had made progress in adding a flashcard to the top of the modern art sculpture with Radames’ name in big, flowery letters with accompanying hearts. They both waved enthusiastically when Lyril and Radames looked their way.

“I see it’s going swimmingly,” Lyril commented as Radames threw his arms around Diego dramatically. 

The attempt to keep a sliver of bitterness out of his voice was weak, but the three of them were too busy to notice. The last thing he wanted to do was spoil things for Radames by lamenting his own circumstances. Though he’d be hard pressed to admit it, it was hard sometimes: seeing the three of them together so often, visual reminders of how well things had worked out for them.

If only he had a shred of their courage.

Raphael stood around the corner, working up courage. They never closed early, but he was still anxious - what if this time they did? Or what if Lyril had gone home for once? Raphael tried not to miss a single day going if he could help it, but this time rehearsals and class had stood in his way. He clutched the tickets in his hand and took a breath. Being nervous was beneath him. He could do this. He would do this.

Right.

Okay.

He walked up to the cafe and opened the door. A soft jingle, and the lights were still on, if only dimmed - a good sign. 

He called out, “Anyone still here? I’m a robber!”

There was a sound of hurried footsteps on wood and Lyril appeared, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear and trying for a smile that looked slightly pained.

“A robber, huh?”

Raphael struck a little pose, and this time Lyril really smiled.

“It’s good to see my favourite robber again, then.” 

“I came with purpose.”

“Oh?”

Raphael put the tickets on the counter. “My theater troupe’s opening night of our Hamlet adaptation is next weekend. It’s gay. I wanted to invite you and- hey, are you alright?”

Lyril looked… well, a little out of it. He was avoiding Raphael’s gaze and seemed to be in a bad mood.

“Y-yeah. Opening night, wow, that’s… I’d love to come. Are you sure?” 

Raphael narrowed his eyes. “So… wanna talk about it?”

“Oh, it’s… it’s fine, really. Just a long day, a couple of difficult customers, you know. The usual.”

“It’s not. I come here often enough… but if you don’t want to tell me, would a hug suffice?”

It seemed that the question surprised Lyril as much as Raphael surprised himself by asking it.

“Yes, I’d-” his voice cracked and he said again, “Yes, that might be nice.”

Raphael looked at him for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around him. If you asked him why he’d offered, he couldn’t answer, but if you asked him to pull away, he’d find he couldn’t do that either. Lyril smelled so nice, like coffee and sugar and flowers, and Raphael couldn’t help inhaling. He felt Lyril leaning against him, his arms circling Raphael’s back. He hoped that Lyril couldn’t feel his heartbeat. 

They stayed like that until Raphael thought it was enough of a risk.

Pulling away was slow, and difficult, and made him feel like he was drowning. Lyril was so close to him now, he could’ve kissed him. Judging by Lyril’s expression, he would kiss him back. Raphael wanted it, too, but he knew that if he did, their world would be over. There was no way around it, no solution in sight - he’d tried, and dreamed, and planned, and yet the darkness had found them in this life anyway. Selfishly, he hoped that that hug would maybe stir up Lyril’s memories, too, but that didn’t seem to be the case - then it wasn’t time yet.

Raphael pulled away with a forced smile. He thanked the gods that he was an actor, at least. “Did that help?” 

“Yeah,” Lyril said hoarsely. “Yeah, it did.”

Raphael rubbed his neck with a nod. “Good, good. So, uh, here are the tickets. I got enough for Radames and his boyfriends too, but they’d have to pay me back for those. Yours is on me.” Raphael winked. “Don’t feel forced to come, but I’d… love to see you there. Really.”

Lyril stared at him for just a moment longer than might be considered a polite pause.

“Ly?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry, I thought I said… yes. I’d love to.”

“That’s good. I mean, I’m… I’d like you to see me act.” Raphael smiled again, this time for real, and shuffled away. “I’ll be going then. Good night!”

When he turned the corner, he sat on the ground right in the middle of the sidewalk. He’d done it. He’d done it! He grinned into the back of his hand. Hoping against hope, he was glad.